Apologize
by RoseTylerBadWolf
Summary: When Ray hits Stella during an argument in the cafeteria and gives her a split lip, everybody suddenly hates him. He then decides to try and apologize. This should get interesting. DISCONTINUED DUE TO LACK OF INSPIRATION.
1. Chapter 1

**So….It's been a while since I last published a story on FanFiction. But do not fret! Here's a new story! Enjoy!**

"Narcissistic asshole!"

"Overconfident bitch!"

"Arrogant bastard!"

"Good-for-nothing!"

The argument between Stella Yamada and Ray Beech was nothing short of what everyone expected: loud and obnoxious. Half the school was gathered around the two in a crowded circle, listening to them argue. Their arguments were never tiring to other people; in fact, those people enjoyed listening to them rant and calling each other obscene names. The only people tired of Stella and Ray arguing, were their respective groups of friends.

Lemonade Mouth sat about two tables away from the crowd of teenagers, looking as if they were just trying to enjoy their lunch and not partake in complaining about the two's obnoxious screaming matches they had to listen to every day. The jocks and Mudslide Crush, however, were sitting much farther away from the crowd, roughhousing like they didn't even know what was going on in the world around them.

Mo slid over closer to Olivia, who was particularly enjoying her grandmother's macaroni salad. Wen was trying to trade an apple for Charlie's bag of Oreos, but Charlie didn't budge, trying to shove as many in his mouth as he could before Wen stole the bag of delectable chocolate sandwich cookies. Suddenly, Mo's phone buzzed in her pants pocket, making her jump up from her seat slightly. She pulled it out and opened a text from Scott.

_From: __Scott_

_Wanna get outta here? I'm tired of listening to those 2 argue._

_To: Scott_

_From: Mo_

_U read my mind ;)_

She stood up from her table, giving a quick goodbye to her friends before walking over to the jocks' usual table.

"Hey Mo," her boyfriend greeted her, lightly kissing her on the cheek. "I haven't seen you since Friday. Why haven't you called?"

"Well, I was really busy this weekend, you know, with the band, and plus, my dad still hasn't completely grasped the fact that I'm dating you," she replied, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

"Ah," he said. "Now seems like a good time to catch up on two days worth of alone time, isn't it?"

"Couldn't have said it better myself," she said, intertwining her fingers with his own. They started to walk out of the cafeteria, but when the couple reached the exit, they heard a loud SMACK; skin against skin. Everyone heard it and went silent, even the jocks. That wasn't a good sign. Mo let go of Scott's hand and ran towards the crowd, pushing bodies out of the way to get to Stella. _Stella__'__s __going __to __get __in __some __serious __trouble __for __this_, she thought. She finally reached her friend, but something seemed out of place. When she looked around, she saw Stella on the ground, holding her hand to her mouth and crying. The revolutionary lead guitarist of Lemonade Mouth never cried—in public at least—so it was definitely a shock to everyone. Then Mo saw Ray, standing above Stella, eyes filled with no emotion whatsoever.

"Stella, are you okay?" Mo asked the girl frantically, kneeling on the ground next to her. Stella's brown eyes were filled with pain and extreme anger at her assailant. She shook her head slightly, removing her hand from her mouth. Her bottom lip was covered in blood, as was half of her palm. "Oh my goodness," Mo panted under her breath. "Guys, you might want to look at this!" Instantly, Olivia, Wen, Scott, and Charlie ran over to the two girls. Everyone's eyes widened in shock.

"Oh my God," Charlie muttered under his breath.

"Is she okay?" Olivia whimpered, latching on to Wen.

"I'm not sure, Liv," Wen replied softly, letting her bury her head in his shoulder. Meanwhile, Scott marched over to Ray, an angry look in his brown eyes.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Scott screamed at his friend. Ray opened his mouth to respond, but Scott cut him off. "No, I already know: nothing. You can't hit a girl, especially Stella!" Ray's blue eyes remained glassy and emotionless. "Do you even care that you hurt her? You drew blood! I swear to God, Ray, you've done a lot of stupid things, but this…this is just unbelievable. This is beyond help. An apology won't make up for this now." Scott stomped away, about ready to hit the next person that asked if he was okay. Ray just stood there, staring at Stella, who looked just about as helpless as an infant. Her friends tried to help her off the ground, and Charlie pulled a Kleenex out of his pocket and handed it to Stella, who held it to her bleeding lip. Then, he walked over to the group, getting everyone to glare.

"What do you want, Ray?" Mo asked him, her obsidian eyes flashing anger at the sight of him.

"She needs a doctor," Ray stated.

"Yeah, which is why we're taking her to the emergency room," Wen replied angrily.

"I'll take her," Ray offered.

"No, you've already caused me enough pain today," Stella tried to say strongly, but her voice cracked on the last few words.

"Yeah, the last thing she needs to see is your face," Mo remarked. "I'm going to have Scott drive her to the hospital." The Indian girl narrowed her eyes at Ray. "You're going to get in some serious trouble for this." By that time, the crowd had scattered. The group walked over to Scott, who was standing by the front door. Ray watched the entire thing. Scott led Stella to his car, and they sped away to the hospital.

Ray was still in disbelief over what he'd done. In just the past ten minutes, he managed to give Stella Yamada, spitfire, legendary lead guitarist of Lemonade Mouth, and revolutionary, a severely split lip. He also made her cry, which he never saw from her before and made him realize how bad he screwed up. Then, he realized something else: this was going to take a lot more than just an 'I'm sorry'. He needed to go far beyond that. And he knew just how to do it.

* * *

><p>Ray drove all over town, picking up flowers and chocolates at various stores. They were cliché, of course, but it least it showed that he cared. At about one P.M., he pulled up to the St. Mary's Medical Center in his black Dodge Charger. Grabbing the roses and chocolates out of the trunk of his car, he walked up to the front entrance, entering the waiting room to the ER. He walked up to the front desk, where a pretty blonde nurse was standing, reading from a patient's file. Ray tried to clear his throat to get the nurse's attention. She walked over and greeted him with a tired smile.<p>

"Can I help you?" the woman asked.

"Yeah, I'm looking for Stella Yamada. These are for her," he explained, holding the items up.

"Are you her boyfriend?" the nurse asked curiously, making his cheeks blush slightly. But he kept his cool.

"I'm just a friend," he lied smoothly. The nurse typed for a few moments on the computer, and then looked back up at him.

"Miss Yamada is in exam room five," she said.

"Thanks," he replied, and walked through the door to the examination rooms. His eyes scanned for number five, then spotted it. In case the doctor was in the middle of something with her, he tried to enter as quietly as possible. Fortunately, she was alone. When she spotted Ray, her eyes lit up with anger, just like an hour earlier, but her eyes were redder and more sunken in. "Hey, Yamada."

"What do you want?" she asked him angrily, sitting on the exam table. "The doctor just got done with the stitches two seconds ago. See?" She pointed to the black thread that was visible in her lip.

"How many did you need?"

"Why should I tell you? You're just probably here to make fun of me for getting them," she ranted, turning away from him and crossing her arms.

"Okay, first, Yamada, don't jump to conclusions. Second, I came here to give you these," he replied, holding out the flowers and chocolates. She turned her head towards him, her eyes widening at the sight. She stood up from the table.

"Y-y-you got these…for me?" she stuttered, pointing at herself.

"Yeah. I figured that you might want these, as you know, a way of me saying…" he gulped, "I'm sorry." His eyes sparkled with a sincerity that she never witnessed before. But her expression went stoic, and she turned away from him again.

"You can't buy me with roses and chocolates, Beech," she stated, crossing her arms again. He came up to her, only inches from her face.

"Oh?" he said. She felt his hot breath on her face, but didn't move. Somehow, she was starting to enjoy his closeness.

"Yeah," she whispered, refusing to shrink back. He set the items on the counter behind him without moving his eyes from Stella.

"Will this change your mind?" he whispered huskily, sending shivers throughout her body. His hand gently stroked her hair, and then it wandered to the bare skin of the back of her neck. His touch gave her goosebumps, but she didn't pull away. Ray's other hand wandered to the small of her back and pulled her closer. Stella very much enjoyed this intimacy between them.

"Be careful. It still hurts," Stella whispered to him, her hands latching onto his broad shoulders.

"Trust me," he whispered back. She relaxed a bit and leaned onto the edge of the exam table. He leaned closer, closing his eyes in the process. She closed her eyes as well, letting Ray find his way. Soon, their lips met in a gentle, soft kiss that sent sparks flying. Stella's lip became sore, but she didn't care about anything other than the lips on hers at the moment. Adrenaline coursed through her body when Ray parted her lips and gently lent his tongue in her mouth. She moaned quietly and began to tangle her fingers in his blonde hair. Her bangs must've gotten in the way, because then she felt Ray's hand brush hair out of her face. Then, her tongue entered his mouth, and the kiss became more heated.

His lips were starting to become hungrier and fiercer as it continued. She pulled away slightly from his lips and he started to make a little trail of kisses on her jaw, which made a small growl escape her lips. He continued down the base of her jaw and kissed her neck gently. Then, he kissed her neck in the same spot several times, each time more animalistic and fierce. Stella let out a loud moan when Ray sucked on her skin, leaving a fairly large mark on her neck. He pulled away and stood back up, looking her in the eyes.

"There. Now you're mine," he whispered to her. The mark started to turn brown and purple, now classifying it as a hickey. In return, Stella leaned forward and sucked on the skin of his neck, leaving the same mark on him.

"Now they match," she joked. He stepped away from her, leaning against the counter. Just then, the doctor walked in the room, holding what looked like a bottle of pills.

"Hello, Miss Yamada," the doctor greeted her, not seeming to notice Ray. He handed her the bottle of pills and stepped away slightly. "These are the pain pills that you'll need. You need to take two a day for the next week to reduce the pain. Other than that, you'll be fine." Then, he noticed the bruise on her neck. "Oh, you have a bruise on your neck. Would you like me to examine that for you?" She quickly covered up the spot with her hand.

"No, no, it's fine. I'll live," Stella replied, and the doctor backed away.

"Okay. Good enough for me. See you next week, Miss Yamada," the doctor said. She grabbed her sweatshirt from the hook by the door.

"Thank you, Dr. Rena," Stella said, exiting the room with Ray in tow, who was holding the flowers and chocolates. She slipped the sweatshirt over her head, hiding the hickey. "You can just throw the flowers away. But I want the chocolate," she told Ray, chuckling. He dumped the roses in the nearest trash bin and they exited the hospital hand in hand.

Nobody was going to believe this.

**Well, ****what ****did ****you ****guys ****think? ****Please ****review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Since everyone has been asking me to make another chapter for this story, here it is! I don't own anything. **

Chapter 2

_Stella. Stella. Stella…_

Ray couldn't get her out of his mind. Every time he tried to distract himself by making out with Patty or some other random cheerleader, Stella's face stuck in his head like a picture super-glued to his brain; almost impossible to get rid of.

Ever since their make out session at the hospital, he found it difficult to look at any other girl at Mesa High. He absolutely hated and loved the fact that everywhere he looked, he saw her fiery hazel eyes and bright white smile. Even when he was sleeping, she'd managed to occupy his dreams every night. How could a girl, that had been so different than the other girls he'd dated, make him feel something he didn't think he was capable of feeling? They were complete and utter opposites.

Stella was fire; extremely passionate in her beliefs, so full of creative energy and spirit that seemed endless. She was friendly and tried to make friends with everyone. She wanted to make her own small change in the world, and didn't care about what anyone else thought of her methods of reaching that goal. No matter how unorthodox those methods were.

Ray was ice; cold and rarely friendly. Anything he wanted, he used manipulation and his almost god-like status to get whatever it was he wanted. Most of the students at Mesa High—probably a good half of the school—worshipped him. The other fifty percent hated his guts and wanted revenge on him. But, because of his rank on the social ladder, no one did anything of the sort. Then Stella came along.

When the two met, they clashed constantly. They went at it every day, most of the time getting detention if it got out of hand. She wanted equality for everyone; he wanted everything to remain the same. She was the only one in the school that dared to challenge his authority. But that one Tuesday, everything changed in a matter of seconds. He didn't mean to hit her as hard as he did. All he wanted to do was give her a little smack. But somehow, when she said those three little words, and without thinking, he pulled his arm back and let loose. He instantly regretted his actions. And now, everyone—including the jocks and other members of Mudslide Crush—hated him. It cost him his right wing position on the soccer team (temporarily) because Principal Brenigan had given him three weeks' detention. His parents were extremely disappointed and grounded him for a month from everything that was even considered the slightest bit of fun. But he'd made up with Stella; in ways that nobody would understand or believe. And that's all he cared about.

* * *

><p>Ray watched her waltz into the cafeteria and greet her friends like nothing had ever happened. She held a brown paper bag and a Mel's in both hands, the signature drink of Lemonade Mouth. His eyes locked onto her, not moving for one second.<p>

After about fifteen minutes, his phone buzzed in his pocket, which caught him off guard. Reluctantly, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. It was Stella.

_We need to talk._ _NOW._

He looked up from the screen and saw her staring at him with a blank look in her eyes. Her expression was hard to read, but he knew what she wanted to talk about. He hit 'Reply' and started typing.

_Where?_

He hit send, and then got an almost immediate reply.

_Broom closet near trophy case._

And if almost synced, the two stood up from their respective tables and walked warily to the exit separately, not to draw attention to themselves. Once the halls were clear of every living thing, they walked down to the door that was marked JANITOR, next to the overloaded trophy case. Stella opened the door, stepped inside, and leaned on a shelf. Ray was wary of stepping inside, but soon found himself two inches from her, a single light bulb lit and the door locked.

"Okay, what did you need to talk about so badly?" he asked. "I could be eating right about now."

"Shush. I don't want anyone to hear us," she scolded, keeping her voice low.

"Okay. What did you need to talk about so badly that just _couldn't _wait?" he asked sarcastically, at a quieter volume. She glared at him.

"We need to talk about Tuesday."

"What's so important—oh." He'd forgotten about their little 'talk' at the hospital temporarily.

"Yeah, oh. We need to talk about that."

"Okay, well, make it quick. I don't have all day, Yamada." She thought for a moment, trying to remember what she was going to say.

"Wanna go out sometime?" she asked bluntly, crossing her arms across her chest. His eyes widened in utter surprise.

"E-excuse me? Come again?" She heaved a heavy, frustrated sigh.

"I said, wanna go out sometime?" she reiterated. Ray narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious of her motives.

"What's the catch?" he asked.

"You have to at least try to be nice to my friends." He stepped closer to her, leery.

"And what if I disagree?" She looked up into his frosty blue eyes, an intimidating look on her face.

"Then, I'll tell Mo to tell your idiot friends that you broke down and gave me flowers and chocolates as a way to apologize." Deathly silence. Then, she whispered, "Yeah, that's the manly way of handling things, isn't it?"

"Oh, cut the crap, Stella, I said I was sorry," he said, almost yelling. Her face retained the same expression, almost unaffected by his outburst.

"Oh, I know you're sorry. I'm just waiting for an answer." He looked away from her for a few minutes, thinking over the pros and cons.

_Pro: I'll get to see Stella more often. Con: I have to keep it from everyone._

He looked back to her, meeting those same fiery, golden hazel eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he then said, "Fine."


	3. Chapter 3

**It's about time I made a third chapter to this! Enjoy!**

Stella paced nervously back and forth in her room, chewing at the tips of her already scraggly fingernails endlessly. Ray was supposed to pick her up anytime now. She glanced at her alarm clock on the nightstand: 7:55. _C'mon, you've got five minutes, Beech, hurry up,_ she thought.

Stella was never nervous.

Sure, she got excited, maybe a little anxious at times. But she was never nervous. _Especially_ this nervous.

_It's just one silly little date. What could go wrong?_

Actually, a lot could go wrong.

They could get caught sneaking out of her house by her parents or caught by one of her friends or Ray's friends. Or anyone they knew, for that matter.

They would have to be very clandestine, very secretive. Go somewhere where no one would even think of searching for them. It was going to be very difficult.

Her hands started to become clammy and her whole body jittery and jumpy. She glanced out her window and saw a clear, midnight black sky, and a thin, silvery moon. The perfect cover of darkness.

Then she heard footsteps climbing the staircase straight to her room. Quickly, she threw on her fuzzy robe to cover her clothes, kicked off her sneakers, and plopped on her bed, plugging in the earbuds to her MP3 player. Just as she predicted, her mom pushed open the door, peeking her head through.

"Hey, Stella," she greeted, a tired smile adorning her face. Stella pulled out an earbud and looked to her mom. "Hey, Mom," Stella said. "Everything okay?"

"Yep, just wanted to see if you were here. Listen, there's some strawberries downstairs in the fridge if you want a few." Stella's eyes widened; she loved strawberries. In fact, they were the only fruit she would eat without complaining. But she was afraid if she left her room, Ray would come for her.

"Uh, no thanks, I'm not really hungry."

"Really? Well, okay, just remember that there's some downstairs if you want some." Her mom closed the bedroom door, and Stella breathed a sigh of relief._ Phew, that was _way _too close to call._

Then, she heard a slight _knock_ against glass. Particularly, her window. She jumped up from her bed and shed the robe. Another knock. She pulled on her worn black sneakers, and peered out her window. Standing there was none other than Ray himself, clad in a toffee-brown leather jacket, a blue t-shirt, denim jeans, and Vans sneakers. As quietly as she could, she pulled open the window, and immediately felt the cool September breeze.

"It's about time," she said, quiet enough to not attract attention.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I got held up by my mom. I told her I was going to go study at Scott's, but she didn't believe me, so we got into an argument, and—"

"I don't care. Let's just go, okay?" Stella swung her legs one at a time over the windowsill, now sitting on it. She cautiously turned around, and started to climb down the escape ladder attached to the side of the house. Once she made it to the bottom, she jumped down and faced Ray.

"So, what did you have planned?" she asked curiously, now the two walking to his car.

"I was thinking of this little bistro right outside of town, not too far from here," he replied. "I've been there a couple times; it's pretty good." They climbed into his car, and he started the ignition.

"Ray Beech, at a quaint little bistro? Wow, I would've never thought I'd see the day," she said, trying to keep her laughs to a minimum. He started down the road east, the residences getting more sparse as they went. About ten minutes in, they could start to see the jagged red rock cliffs. Stella was getting that nervous feeling again.

"Are you sure you remember how to get there?" she asked.

"Of course. See, here it is." He pulled up to a small building with glittering, twinkling lights streamed around it, a speck of light in the Arizona desert. There were several tables set outside, guarded by a wrought iron fence.

The couple climbed out of the car and walked through the gate of the restaurant, and were greeted by a older blond woman with too much makeup painted on her face.

"Welcome to LaBianca Café. Let me show you to your table," she said in a bored voice. The waitress led them to a table sitting at the very back corner of the section. She handed them menus and left, only for a younger female, with bright red hair and freckles, to prance up to the couple, holding a pad of paper.

"I'm Gina, and I'll be your server this evening. What can I get you to drink?"

"Water for me, please," Stella said.

"Same for me," Ray said. The waitress left for their drinks, and they sat there in awkward silence. It was so quiet, all they could hear were the faint chirp of the crickets

"Well, how are things?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Good. You?"

"Same." _How are things? What are you, a moron, Ray? Tell her she looks good._ "Um, you look, nice." _Nice? Be a man, Ray! _She blushed slightly.

"Thanks," she said. The waitress burst through the door, haphazardly balancing two glasses of ice water on a plastic tray.

"Well, here you go, two glasses of wate—oh!" She seemed to have tripped over her own feet, and the glasses went flying. Soon, they landed on Stella's head, the cold liquid spilling everywhere, soaking her hair and clothes to the core.

To say it wasn't a pretty sight was an understatement.

"I am so, so sorry, miss!" the waitress apologized. "I didn't mean to do it."

"I-it's fine. B-but can I-I get a t-towel?" Stella asked, shivering from the ice.

"Yeah, sure, I have a fresh one right here." The waitress pulled a clean white towel from her apron and handed it to Stella.

"T-thank you," Stella said, and the waitress hurried away to grab more cloths to clean up the mess. She shook the towel on her head, trying to dry her hair as efficiently as possible.

"Are you okay, Stella?" he asked as calmly as he could.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied, hoping it would get him to leave the subject. Suddenly, she caught sight of two familiar teenagers, one with spiky red hair, and a blond girl with a braid draped over her shoulder. _Oh, crap, this could not get any worse._ Stella's eyes widened. Ray happened to notice.

"What's wrong?" he asked. She pointed over his shoulder, and he twisted his head around to assess the situation. Sure enough, it was Olivia White and Wen Gifford, the lead singer and the keyboardist from Lemonade Mouth. They were sat at a table right at the front of the restaurant.

"As if my night couldn't get any worse," Stella muttered to herself. She looked down at the table, trying to hide her face.

"How is your night worse than mine? I got sprayed with water too, you know," Ray complained. She looked back up at him, and rolled her eyes.

"Because those are my two best friends, and if they see me with you, they'll go _berserk," _she explained tiredly. She ran a hand through her drenched brown hair and sighed. "And _I'm_ the one who got drenched with ice water, for God sakes. You'll live."

"Are you kidding me? My hair is ruined; it took me an hour to get it styled just right."

"You are such a drama queen."

"Excuse me?"

"Read my lips, Beech. You are a D-R-A-M-A Q-U-E-E-N."

"Well, you're, a, uh…" He stuttered, trying to come back with a retort, only to leave himself babbling like a moron. _Get a hold of yourself, Beech,_ he thought. She sat in front of him, waiting with bated breath.

"Well?" she said, cupping her hand around her ear and leaning forward in a dramatic style.

He was speechless. A triumphant smile formed on her face.

"That's what I thought you said." Soon the waitress came back with their meals, a mushroom ravioli dish for Stella and a panini for Ray. They ate their meals in silence, keeping their attention on the food.

But once in a while, Stella glanced up and looked at her friends' table, letting her mind wander a little.

It was a little strange, if not comforting, to see Wen and Olivia out on a real date. It made her wonder about her relationship with Ray.

Once they were finished, the waitress came and took the dirty plates. The check arrived, so, naturally, Ray took the check and went up front to pay for their meals. Stella followed far enough behind him as to not draw suspicion.

She felt somebody's eyes on her as she went through the wrought iron gate to wait in Ray's car. When she turned around, she met Wen's disappointed blue eyes. She turned back and let herself into Ray's car, buckling her seat belt. Soon, he came back, climbed into the driver's seat, and they drove back west, towards town. It was a silent ride.

Ten minutes later, they pulled up to the front curb of her house. She unbuckled her seatbelt, got out of the car, and watched as Ray pulled away. She glanced at her watch: 9:07. She walked to the back of the house, where the ladder hung, waiting for her to climb it up back to her room. Just as she was about to start climbing up, she heard footsteps in the grass behind her.

"Just where were you, young lady?" she heard her father ask.

_Uh oh._


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry about the long hiatus; inspiration kept escaping me. This is the fourth chapter, and I hope you like it!**

"Just where were you, young lady?" Stella heard her father ask.

_Uh oh._

This wasn't supposed to happen; she wasn't supposed to get caught sneaking back to the house. This is what she feared the most.

"I said, where were you, Stella?" her father repeated. She turned around to face her father, who did _not_ look happy to see his sixteen year-old daughter sneaking back home after dark.

_It could be worse; I could be coming home early in the morning_, she thought. That much was true. But she didn't say anything about that to him.

"I was at Mo's house, studying," she lied, hoping it would get him to leave her alone. She was a bad liar; but she'd been going over this lie so much—in case she was caught—that it almost sounded convincing to her. But he was not so easily fooled; he knew when his own daughter was lying.

"Don't give me that, Stella Marie Yamada," he said, the anger in his voice evident.

"What? It's true, I swear!" she defended, but she knew it was hopeless.

"Where were you really?" he interrogated. "And tell me the truth." She didn't want to say anything, but he was forcing her hand. She mumbled something he couldn't decipher. "What?"

"I said, I was with Ray. Happy now, Dad?" she finally replied, sounding extremely annoyed. His face went blank, and then he put two and two together. She saw his face turned a deeper shade of red.

"You were with that Beech boy? The one that hit you?" he angrily asked, his temper shortening by the second. She didn't want to admit it.

"Yes, the one that hit me," she replied simply.

"What did you two do? I want to know _right now_."

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.

"Don't give me the innocent act, Stella. What did you do with that boy?"

"What do you think we did, Dad?" There was silence as she thought about it; then it occurred to her what her dad was thinking. A look of disgust appeared on her face. "Ew, that's gross! Why would I even _think_ of doing that with him? I'm smarter than I look, you know."

"Don't give me that tone. Did he touch you in any way?"

"No, would you stop worrying about it? _We didn't do anything._"

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes, already! Would you stop interrogating me like I'm some sort of criminal?" There was so much silence, all they heard were the crickets chirping. Her father's face turned back to its normal color as he tried to calm himself.

"I'll give you an ultimatum. You can tell your mother about this, and I'll give you two weeks, or—"

"Two weeks!" she blurted out.

"I was not finished." Stella kept her mouth shut. "Or, I can tell your mother myself, and you'll get a month. Choose." She thought about it for a few minutes.

"I guess I can tell Mom."

"Good choice." He walked her inside, where Charlotte Yamada sat in a kitchen chair, waiting.

_Time to face the music._

* * *

><p>Stella walked into school Monday morning like it was any other day. She whistled as she walked inside, out of the chilly October morning air, trying to act perfectly content with herself. A few people greeted her in the halls, which was usual for her. But when she went down to the music room in the basement for her band's morning rehearsal, something felt different.<p>

She opened the door into the music room and sat her bag in a random desk. She adjusted her guitar case on her shoulder as she walked over to her friends. But they weren't talking or laughing like they usually were; instead, everyone was huddled in a group, staring at her, silent.

"Hey guys," she greeted, at first not noticing them. She unzipped her guitar case and brought out her electric guitar. She put the strap on over her shoulder and reached down for the extension cord to the amp. "So, I was thinking, maybe we could start at the first chorus for the new song—" Then she finally looked up at the group as she plugged in the guitar. "Are you guys alright?" She looked at every one of their faces; they did not look welcoming.

"Can we talk to you, Stella?" Mo was the first one to speak up.

"Yeah, sure." Stella took off the strap from her shoulder and set down the guitar on a trunk. "What do we need to talk about?"

"We need to talk about _you._" Stella was confused.

"Why do we need to talk about me?" She was secretly hoping that it wasn't about what happened Friday night. "What did I do?"

Everyone was silent. Then Olivia said quietly, "We know about you and Ray."

_Oh, crap._

"How did you guys find out about that? It was supposed to be a secret." She looked at her friends, then she noticed Wen's guilty look. He was looking away from her. "Wen? How'd you find out?" Then she remembered back to Friday; she remembered seeing him at the restaurant. "Wait, don't answer that."

"Why didn't you tell us, Stella?" Mo asked. "Do you not trust us?"

"No, I trust you guys completely. You know I do."

"Then why didn't you tell us about you and Ray going out?" Stella didn't have an answer. There was silence among the friends.

"When did it first happen?" Olivia asked softly, afraid to raise her voice.

She was reluctant to answer, but then she replied, "Tuesday."

And that's all they needed to know. A collective gasp echoed throughout the group.

"That was when he hit you, wasn't it?" Mo questioned, and reluctantly, Stella nodded. "How…what…how did it happen?" Mo was in shock.

Stella started to explain herself. "Well, it was after Scott had left and after the doctor stitched me up. Ray had come by with some stupid flowers and chocolates. I didn't want them, but then we got talking, and, well….we kissed." Another collective gasp.

"Stella, how could you not tell us this? We're your best friends, for God sakes! And then you go behind our backs and do this? I can't believe it," Charlie fumed, his face red in anger. "This is ridiculous. I'm leaving." He stormed out of the room.

"Wait, Charlie, come back! I'm sorry!" Stella called to him, running to the open doorway. "Charlie!" But he had already disappeared into the elevator. She turned back to her friends.

"I'm going to ask again. Why did you not tell us about you and Ray?" Mo reiterated, now starting to sound upset. Stella tried to answer.

"I felt that you guys wouldn't approve of it. I know that we were supposed to be sworn enemies—"

"Well, obviously not anymore," Wen interrupted. He started to sound angry as well. "Why did you go to the same _exact_ place Olivia and I were going for dinner?"

"In all honesty, I had no idea that you guys were going to be there. It's not like I was _trying_ to get caught. I didn't even know you were looking at me when Ray and I left."

"That's a bunch of bull, Stella," Wen defended. "I saw you looking at me while I was looking at you."

"Is that the truth, Stella?" Mo asked. Stella nodded. "I…I can't believe this! You…you lied to us! About something completely petty!"

"Yeah, our own friend, lying to us," Scott said in disbelief. "C'mon, Mo, let's leave." They started to walk out the door, but Stella quickly ran up to them, trying to block the exit.

"Look, I'm really, _really_ sorry, guys, for not telling you. I promise I'll make it up to you," Stella pleaded.

"It's too late for sorry, Stel," Mo said. She looked genuinely disappointed. And with that last comment, the couple left the music room. Now it was just her, Olivia, and Wen.

"You know, I'm starting to agree with Mo and Scott," said Wen. They walked out the door, but Stella caught up to them just as they were coming up to the elevator.

"Please, guys, I'm sorry! It'll never happen again, I swear!" she pleaded. "Next time, I'll tell you guys every detail!"

"I'm afraid there won't be a next time, Stella," Wen said, and pressed the up button on the elevator. "What's the point of being friends? You lied to us, did stuff behind our backs, and hid it from us!" Wen looked at her angrily. "I can't believe I was friends with someone like you." They stepped into the elevator, but Stella kept pleading.

"Olivia? Please, I'm sorry." Olivia just stared at her friend, a disappointed, sorrow look on her face.

"I'm sorry, Stella," she whispered, and the elevator doors shut.

Stella was left all alone in the basement.

* * *

><p>That afternoon, she sat all alone at a lunch table, sulking, refusing to eat her food. She looked over to her friends' table, and saw them goofing around, like they always did. It was as if nothing had ever happened between them. And yet, it felt lonely without them.<p>

_This sucks. They hate me now._

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, the product of a text. She pulled it out and took one glance at the ID before opening the message.

_From: Beech_

_Somethin' wrong Yamada? _

She glanced up at the jocks' table, and saw Ray smirking at her. In an annoyed fashion, she rapid-fire messaged him back.

_To: Beech_

_From: Yamada_

_Go shove it up your ass, Beech. I dont wanna talk about it._

She watched him as he flipped open his phone and read her text, only for him to laugh at it.

_From: Beech_

_Ooh, someone forgot to take their Midol today._

Instead of messaging him back, she typed in his phone number and called him.

"Hello?" she heard him answer.

"Do you get some sick fantasy about my misery?" She watched him as his classic smirk played out on his face.

"In fact—"

"Don't answer that, Beech; it was a rhetorical question." She heard an annoyed sigh over the phone.

"You're testing my limits, Yamada."

"Ooh, I'm so scared," she said sarcastically. "What are you gonna do about it? You can't keep hitting me forever."

"Yeah, but I can keep hitting _on_ you." His voice was a low, husky whisper, the tone in his voice immediately changed.

"Damn, Beech, I hate it when you do that."

"Oh, you know you _love_ it."

_That is true,_ she thought. There was just something about his voice that gave her chills; the good kind. But she knew what he really wanted from her. "When and where?"

"Broom closet near the trophy case. Meet you there in five minutes."

* * *

><p>She stood outside the janitor's closet, waiting for Ray to show up. Her watch said 12:35. <em>What is taking that boy so long? He said five minutes.<em>

"Sorry I kept you waiting, Yamada." She turned around to face him, his usual smirk painted on his face, hands shoved in his pockets. He opened the door behind her, and gestured for her to step inside. "After you."

"My pleasure." She stepped inside the closet and leaned on a shelf. He followed suit and closed the door behind him, locking it. The light was already on. "What did you need, Beech?" Right after she spoke, he took her head in his hands and kissed her. It was a surprise to her, but soon she relaxed into the kiss, moving her lips against his in perfect harmony. They pulled away a few seconds later. She ran a hand through her hair, exasperated.

"Wow, Ray...that was..." Stella was at a loss for words. And that hardly ever happened.

"I know, right?" he said cockily, sporting a triumphant look on his face. She rolled her eyes in annoyance; he happened to notice. "What was the eye roll for?"

"We just had an amazing kiss, and you're _still_ thinking about yourself? You don't do all the work, you know." Stella snorted in disbelief. "It was unbelieveable to think that for once, you can think about somebody else rather than yourself. Don't you ever get tired of thinking and talking about yourself all the time?"

"I don't do it _all_ the time."

"Oh really? Then when was the last time you didn't think about yourself?" Ray didn't have an answer. "Exactly, that's _exactly _what I was talking about. This is freaking unbelievable."

"You know, Yamada, you get angry about the most mundane things." Then he realized he should've kept his mouth shut.

"_I_ get angry over little things? _Me?_ Go take a look in the frickin' mirror, Beech. Who was the person that got upset when a little ice water got into his _precious _hair?" He didn't have an answer. "Exactly. _You._" Before he could retort back, she stormed out of the closet and into the hallway. He was able to catch up with her, gripping onto her arm to stop her.

"What is your problem today? You've got the temper of a stick of dynamite," he said. She ripped her arm out of his grasp and turned to face him.

"They've found out about me and you," she said, then walked away from him, not looking back. Ray stood as solid as a statue, shocked.

"Wait. What?"


End file.
